Quinn Albright - 18 - District Five Female Tribute
13th July, 12 ADD
5:34 AM
The sun had begun to climb its way throughout the cloudless sky, signaling the beginning of yet another day in the arena. Twenty four tributes had been condemned to this televised graveyard, now only three remained after only one week. Twenty one cannons had sounded their way across the desolate landscape, each one only bringing more uncertainty to the fates of those left standing.
The light began to work its way down steep cliffs of sandstone, vivid red and orange like the sunset out of a painter's fantasy. Soon the pink and orange blossoms of the barrel cacti were glowing along with the greens and whites of the yucca plants.
Amongst this breath-taking scene of natural beauty there stood two outliers. The first of which being a great metal cornucopia, easily the size of a house, standing in the center of the canyon as if it had been plucked off the table of some giant in a story from a time too long ago to remember. The second thing out of place is Quinn.
Perched upon the sturdy ledge of the canyon walls making up the perimeter of the arena sat District Five's female tribute, though the title meant little to her other than an almost definite death sentence.
While the sun had done wonders for her view, giving her vantage across the arena in which she knew the final two of her fellow tributes were no doubt sharpening their weapons ahead of what was presumably the last day of the twelfth annual Hunger Games, it also allowed her to see the vast assortment of bruises, scrapes, cuts and sores which she had accumulated in the arena.
The worst of which was revealed as she tentatively rolled up the left leg of her Capitol issued khaki pants, revealing a bandage once sodden with blood that had now dried to a sickly brown. The pain hit her before it was even off, the light wind in the canyon feeling like nails hammered into the side of her calf.
"Shit!" The curse came without warning. Throughout her life Quinn had been reluctant to use such profanities.
She'd spill her water over a sheet of notes and grit her teeth as she started over again.
Her parents had to relocate to a new town to fill job vacancies and she'd paint on a smile and tell herself that it would be nice to move.
But she was no longer a normal girl living a normal life. No, she was now a girl forced to come to terms with her own inevitable mortality as soon as her name was plucked from the reaping bowl. A girl living on borrowed time. She supposed this was reason enough to let slip a few profanities.
See what had happened was the other girl left in the arena, the one from Two, had carved a generous slice out of her left calf the night before as she tried to climb away to safety. She only just managed to do so, though she was left with part of her calf muscle barely attached to her body.
Once she was far and high enough to stop running a parachute had given her bandage and antiseptic, a pitiful offering when part of her leg was barely hanging onto her, though she appreciated it nonetheless. Treating it the best she could, she then must have passed out from exhaustion, leading to her waking up to this.
The piece of flesh hanging onto her leg had darkened to a disgusting shade of gray and the putrid odor of rotting meat hung in the air like poison.
Her grandmother had been a doctor long ago, and though she had been long deceased by the time Quinn was born there was still a cache of journals and books her mother had held onto and had managed to keep hidden from the peacekeepers during their contraband searches. As a child she would pore over the dense texts, having little else to keep her mind occupied.
Her mind flashed back to one of the pages.
"Death of body tissue due to a lack of blood flow or a serious bacterial infection."
Gangrene. Treated with antibiotics or amputation. Amputation wasn't an option, not only was the side of a canyon a terrible replacement for a sterile operating room but she didn't even have a knife to do it with. She gazed across at the sky, now turning a tranquil shade of pale blue as the sun continued to rise upon the horizon, she doubted the sponsors would help her out again which ruled out antibiotics.
She had maybe 48 hours if she was lucky. She couldn't wait this out, there would be no swooping in when her final competitors were passed out from injury or dehydration like that girl who won a few years back.
She had nothing to lose. She had lost Eve last night, her friend. Her light amongst the overpowering darkness of the games. The person that had kept her going for the past week. She had lost her supplies when they were attacked too, the lack of water already evident by her dry mouth and throbbing vision. Everything was against her, even her own body screamed as she moved her aching joints and unhealed wounds, as her gangrenous leg threatened to poison her bloodstream and leave her body to rot away in a wooden box shipped home to her grieving parents.
So if the whole world was going to be against her then why not fuck them all and give this one last shot, one last moment of strength so she could say that she at least died with dignity. She could tell the world, the Capitol, her last two fellow competitors to fuck off because Quinn Albright wasn't going to give up without a fight.
13th July, 12 ADD
8:23 AM
The other two were easy to spot, their weapons still shiny in the light of the desert sun despite being marred by the brown stain of dried blood. From her ledge, maybe 15 or so feet above the ground, she saw them finally lay eyes upon one another.
The boy from Four, though it'd probably be more accurate to say the man from Four judging on his beard and a body built like an ox, wielded a nasty looking sword in his left hand. His face was peppered with injuries ranging from a broken nose to cracked teeth barely visible from the ledge she stayed hidden upon.
His opponent held an identical weapon, though it appeared as though she had polished it for this final showdown. Eve's blood from the night before was nowhere to be seen, wiped off the brilliant silver of the blade as if she had never existed.
She moved five steps closer to him. Her muscular frame was nowhere near that of her opponent, though it was still incredibly intimidating in comparison to Quinn's lithe body. Though she could only see her back, she could tell by the ease at which she moved that her injuries must have been minimal.
"Lucky" she muttered to herself as she felt her dying calf muscle send another wave of pain through her body.
She had been the favorite to win from the start, the girl from Two. She remembers the guards talking about betting odds while she was kept in her cell, waiting to give her interview and then be taken into the arena. One to four odds one of them said before another laughed when asked about the odds of the girl in the cell he was guarding. Her cell.
The girl from Two waited for Four to take the first move, swinging his sword long and wide, allowing her to step out of the way with ease. She then parried his next strike with her own sword, almost knocking his one out of his hands before he landed a kick square into her abdomen.
Four took this opportunity to swipe his weapon at her, landing a solid cut at her right arm causing a deep laceration and bringing a terrible grin to Quinn's face. She was getting a taste of her own medicine.
Leaping back into action she went on the offensive now, using her superior mobility to land a trio of slices at Four's body before a loose rock on the ground sent her body careening to the floor alongside her weapon. Four sent another swipe towards her left arm as she scrambled for her dropped sword, cutting deep enough to hit the bone Quinn thought, and raised his sword for a final swing at her.
It was then that she had picked her weapon up, and plunged it directly into his now exposed abdomen. The tip stuck out of his back, no longer shiny and silver but now heavy with a violent red.
Two had now turned back and staggered to a spot almost directly under the ledge Quinn was still perched on, no doubt waiting for parachutes from generous sponsors to send medical supplies down to their favorite tribute.
"Fat chance" Quinn muttered, any ounce of complacency that had been within her until this point was now gone.
She shuffled to the edge of the ledge as quietly as possible, saw where Two was standing, wiping blood off of her sword. And then she jumped.
The impact sent both girls down to the ground. Quinn's knees dug into Two's back as her jaw hit the rocky surface with a sickening crunch. Before her opponent had a chance to push her off, Quinn grabbed a dull, round rock with her right hand and brought it to the other girl's skull.
Two only managed to turn herself over, looking up at her assailant before losing the energy to do anything more. The sky above her was a beautiful blue, midday sun casting heavy beams of light upon the both of them. The last thing Two would see was the blood streaked face of Quinn Albright.
"Please." Was all she managed to mumble, before a cough wracked her lungs and sprayed a fine red mist onto the face of the girl on top of her.
The image of Eve's face filled Quinn's mind. Her dark skin and curly hair. Her smile that managed to cut through the fear they should have been feeling like a torch in the dead of night.
Next came the image of her dying body as she had seen it last night. Skin becoming paler in the dim light of a pitiful campfire, blood seeping out of a gaping wound in her chest.
"I hope you rot" she whispered, then with one final swing brought the rock down on the other girl's skull with a resolute crunch.
10th January, 13 ADD
10:58 PM
She had never been on a train like this before. With its crystal chandeliers, plush carpeting and velvet curtains it was a far cry from the train that brought her to the Capitol six months prior. Some days she could still feel the handcuffs pressing tight against her wrists. She had taken to sleeping with the blinds open too, because the darkness reminded her of the heavy black cloth bag they had put over her head, making it near impossible to see anything, let alone breathe.
While every part of her mind and body begged her to go to bed and sleep she instead was slouching in an ornate wooden chair in what Derecia gleefully named the 'Tour Headquarters'.
Derecia, her Capitol advisor and escort was sitting across from her with dead straight posture, the harsh lighting overhead reflecting across the gleaming silver buttons adorning her coat. A perpetual grin was plastered across her makeup-laden face, bone white teeth on stark display. Quinn had first assumed her to be your typical Capitol citizen with her gaudy clothing, eccentric accent and penchant for televised child on child violence, however looking below the surface Quinn had begun to suspect her escort was far more sinister than she had appeared.
"Now darling I know you can do better than that, you know you can too don't you?"
The words were harmless, sure, just a little constructive criticism from anyone else, but the tone spelt out a delicate threat.
"I'm sorry, I-" The words began to catch in her throat "Just seeing their faces. And their families. I couldn't stand there in front of them and keep talking."
Joaquin and Gwen, those were their names, she hadn't wanted to hear their names again, let alone see their faces projected among the crowd of onlookers in District Seven. Joaquin's shaved head and Gwen's long, brilliant red hair in stark display in front of her as a reminder of what she had done. What she could never undo.
Quinn had always preferred to just forget these things, she had gotten good at forgetting these past months. She could go to class and greet her professor when she entered the lecture hall and ignore the glances her peers gave her. She could catch the bus to her home in the recently built Victor's Village and ignore the anxiety pressing against her chest as she kept catching glances of a girl sitting behind her with the same bright red hair as Gwen. She could sleep in her oversized bed in her new house and pretend she liked it better than the cozy apartment her family had made a home out of back in her old town. She could pretend she was fine when she looked across the fields of people in each district, surely crowded in there by force and not of their own volition, gazing at her with glassy eyes as she was made to prattle on about the glory of the games. But could she really keep pretending?
Quinn was snapped out of this mental tangent as Derecia made a disapproving sigh.
"You've done so well to get to this point darling, and quite frankly I'm disappointed" the threat made with this comment was clearer than ever "And I'm sure I'm not the only one disappointed too".
"I'm sorry Derecia, I'm so sorry." She couldn't help as tears began to well in the corners of her eyes.
She knew what happened to the tributes who defied the Capitol's desires, her mind flashing back to the seventh games. She remembered it clear as day. The explosion the District Eight tributes had caused, the games being put on pause, the rest of the tributes waiting blindfolded in the harsh summer heat as rain poured upon them. And of course the next day when two little kids had been brought in, the brother and sister of the pair of rebels who had exploded themselves the day prior. She had no siblings, her parents had wanted to have another but then the rebellion had kicked off and threw everything into chaos, but she did have her parents. It wasn't as if they could be put into the arena but she knew the Capitol wouldn't hesitate to harm them as punishment if she didn't act the part of their victor.
"Quinn darling, no need to work yourself up, just don't disappoint us again. This is our first ever victory tour, we need to set a wonderful precedent for every year following, don't we?"
Derecia garnished this response with another sickly grin. Quinn now noticed flecks of what looked to be diamond on the tips of her escort's ivory white teeth.
"Understood?"
"Yes".
14th January, 13 ADD
12:15 PM
"Thank you."
Those two words were all that could run through Quinn's mind as she rushed herself into a storeroom of District Six's Justice Building. Tears began to spill down her face, smudging the makeup some Capitol idiot had carefully applied earlier that day. She had managed to hold her promise to Derecia, and she guessed to the Capitol government as an extension. She smiled and spoke with composure, she hadn't tripped over her words, she had been the perfect victor for the Capitol and she hated herself for it.
She hated herself for not forcing her way through the immense crowd to the lone woman standing on the platform bearing Eve's image and crying into her shoulder about how much pain she was in, how she wished that Eve could have been here instead, that Eve deserved so much better than a knife in the back and a friend who ran away instead of helping her.
And while all she did was recite the drivel that Derecia had written for her, the woman, whom Quinn knew had to be Eve's mother, had still mouthed those two words to her. "Thank you".
Without warning the door to the storeroom burst open and the lights flickered on, their luminescent bulbs shrouding the cramped room in an uncomfortable brightness.
"Derecia just give me a moment, please." She sighed, not even bothering to look up at the glittery grin of her escort.
"Nice guess, but you're a little off."
Quinn looked up to see someone that was definitely not her escort. The woman stared at her with an expression so indecipherable it could've given her a headache if she looked long enough. Whatsmore the face was so insanely familiar that Quinn was mad at herself for not knowing who had interrupted her preferably private mental breakdown.
"You're-" She started, hoping that her memory would somehow be jogged.
"Radina. Come on surely my fame hasn't waned that much."
That's right, Radina Finch, victor of the eleventh Hunger Games. Derecia had reminded her that morning but her mind had been too focused on not messing her speech up that it had slipped into the corner of her mind.
"I'm sorry, you're right I-"
"That was a joke, y'know." Radina's tone softened.
She closed the door and took a seat on the crate across from her. The room was small, so the tips of their shoes touched. Quinn noted that it was almost funny how her Capitol issued blue suede pumps couldn't be more different than Radina's scuffed leather boots
"I just wanted to tell you that we appreciate what you did for Evelyn."
Quinn had never been one for eye contact but she couldn't help but be drawn to the other woman's eyes, full of so much more emotion than she had seen in her own over the past six months. So much passion and fight she hadn't felt for so long.
"I didn't do anything for Eve, I left her to die, I-"
"No." Radina cut her off. "You got her out of that bloodbath at the start, you saved her life when you were attacked, you did more than anyone else in that arena would have. So stop all this woe is me survivor's guilt crap because you did your best, but sometimes that's all you can do"
"How are you so-" She paused to find the right word "Not messed up from all of this." Quinn cast a glance at her reflection in a tiny, scratched up mirror hanging on the wall. Her tear streaked, near hysterical face was the polar opposite of Radina's stone-faced exterior.
"I've seen my share of shit long before the games, you learn to live through it I promise"
"That's a promising thought," Quinn replied. The tone was supposed to be a somber sarcasm, but she couldn't help it as a soft smile formed on her lips.
"Hey look a smile, see aren't I just amazing?" The smile continued to grow.
"Shut up," she laughed.
Shit she actually laughed. For the first time since what felt like an eternity.
For the first time she had someone who could sympathize with her. She allowed herself to indulge in this moment of freedom until the dark corners of her mind overtook her thoughts yet again.
"I don't think I can keep doing this."
That had been playing through her mind since she stepped foot onto the stage in District Twelve's derelict town square, looking out at the faces of a boy and girl she barely recognised without the blood spattered across them like in the recap video she was forced to smile through.
"Just think, once this is over you'll never have to worry about any of this again. The Capitol will let you go and you can go live your life however you want, it's just one more week to get through and then it's done"
That did give her some relief.
"And you have a phone right? I'll give my number to you if you're ever feeling lonely"
"Will they even allow that?"
"I mean why not? We're victors, that means something now doesn't it?"
Quinn couldn't help but agree, though the idea of being revered for participating in the Capitol's sick game lingered in her mind like a noxious cloud. A nauseating guilt she still couldn't yet shake off.
They sat in silence for another moment before Quinn had finally been found by her escort and being yanked out of her temporary sanctuary before she could even say goodbye.
20th January, 13 ADD
9:53 PM
"I stand with Panem" The posters were everywhere here in the Capitol, her face would no doubt be staring down upon thousands of people in the districts too. She recognised the cerulean blazer and its soft herringbone pattern from her victory tour stop in Four just a few days back, though the impetuous grin on her face seemed far too artificial to have been real. She looked like she'd had some kind of 'smile transplant' from someone far happier.
Quinn had a quick giggle to herself, she couldn't help but laugh at the fact that such a thing was probably done in the Capitol. I mean look at Derecia and her jewel tipped teeth, enough said.
But no this smile was definitely not hers. Even under the effects of the tablets Derecia had practically been forcing down her, making her head feel light and warm, she could still recognise that the look of joy upon poster Quinn's face was nothing she had felt for the past six months.
Maybe except her meeting with Radina near a week ago.
Absent-mindedly, her hand went to the crisp white of her shirt pocket, feeling the jagged strip of beige paper sitting there just as it had for the past twelve minutes since she had checked it last. Her mind begged her to take the paper out and read it over once more, even though she already had the image of the note basically printed into her memory at this point. A string of numbers, a mess of scribbly writing that she somehow found impossibly charming.
"If you need a friend"
The thought of those five words were enough to settle her nerves as she steadied herself, having finally prepared herself to return to the prismatic lights of the party that she'd been made to attend. Derecia would no doubt be furious that her bathroom break had lasted more than five minutes.
As she opened the door her florid surroundings engulfed her once more. Even before the bright lights could set a dizzying spell upon her vision a strong hand gripped her arm, pulling her through the decadent ballroom and its hundreds of guests, each attired in garments bordering on those of a circus clown.
Her fellow attendees gawked at their latest victor with such intense fervor that Quinn couldn't bring herself to acknowledge them as she continued to be guided, no, dragged through the room. She didn't even have to look in front of her in order to identify the person manhandling her arm.
"Five minutes!"
Though the room was at a near deafening volume Quinn could still make out the anger in Derecia's voice.
"I don't know what backwater education you get in the districts but I expect you to tell five minutes from twelve!"
Quinn bit her tongue, resisting the urge to remind Derecia that her test scores and exam marks had put her in the third percentile for academic achievement in Five and that she had more intelligence in her little fingernail than half the people in the Capitol. But the bitter thought of the consequences of further upsetting Derecia held her back once again.
"Just figuring out how to use your fancy technology, that's all."
Derecia snickered, though it was clear there was no humor in her response.
"Well we need to hurry then, the President is set to address the party in five minutes."
The President, Quinn was still baffled that she had met him six months earlier as he placed a shining gold wreath on her head during her crowning ceremony.
The week following her games had been such a blur that she was surprised she could remember this occasion in such detail. Her infection had been treated the moment the hovercraft picked her up, leaving the girl from Two's broken and bloody body lying on sun baked orange stone. Still she was confined to a hospital bed for four days as the rotten tissue was inspected, slathered in some kind of cream, blasted with antibiotics and partially amputated.
By the time she was well enough to walk she was dressed up in an opulent red gown, long enough to cover the still healing wounds on her legs, and thrust in front of the cameras to receive her crown. Capitol officials told the swarm of eager reporters to wait until her final interview to ask questions, making sure her morphling dulled mind didn't lead to unsavory responses.
"Oh look here he comes now, doesn't he look fabulous!"
The positivity in Derecia's voice was downright threatening to finally snap Quinn's sanity, the disgusting taste of blood slowly filling her mouth as she continued to bite her tongue.
"Mmhm." She replied, the thought of throttling her escort seemed more inviting than ever.
Against her own desires she pushed back this thought and instead turned her attention to the President, now standing at the edge of the large marble balcony looking over the crowd of more than a thousand underneath him.
"People of Panem today marks a momentous occasion in our history." He begun, his deep voice echoing through the collection of speakers spread amongst the grounds of the Presidential manor and, by the look of the assortment of microphones and cameras, echoing throughout the televisions and radios across all of Panem as well.
"We the Capitol have welcomed a true hero of Panem to join us here today, a warrior against those who seek to destroy what we have worked so hard to build. A woman who has fought to show her love and gratitude for us and our people."
Quinn felt a dozen cameras swivel to face her before she could even register the President's address of her.
"Quinn Albright of District Five stands before you as not only an inspiration to future generations of District Five children, but to all in Panem."
The applause surrounding Quinn was thunderous, several people behind her patted her on the back and yelled congratulations and admiration that went deaf over the immense noise that seemed to now fill every inch of her head.
"We applaud you, and all of Panem's victors as such inspirations. And to reflect our gratitude we have some exciting news for all of you."
The once deafening crowd had now quieted to that of a whisper, the Capitolites joining Quinn as they hung onto the words of the President. What could it be? That was a tricky question because so far the Capitol had shown their 'gratitude' to her via hushed threats to execute her parents so her mind didn't clamor for anything slightly befitting of what "exciting news." should have meant.
"Henceforth from the coming thirteenth Hunger Games the victors of Panem will be invited to the Capitol to serve as mentors for the tributes of their districts in order to spread their-"
"Wait,"
"-respect for the Capitol and honor for the games with each new generation of tributes."
"Shit."
This last word had barely escaped from her lips before her head was overrun with too many things to process. In an instant it was as if her body was made of bricks, pulling her to the intricate mosaic tiles she had just been standing on.
As the crowd clamored around her, Derecia pushed back people fighting to see a glimpse of what had happened with all the violence of a ticked off peacekeeper. The almost comical sight of this clouded in her vision until all she could see was the fuzzy glow of the neon lights, then nothing.
Sweet nothing.
Wow I can't believe it's taken so long to get here but I'm so thrilled to publish the very first chapter of my SYOT Smoke and Mirrors. I've been part of the SYOT community for over two years and I'm so excited for this next chapter in my journey as I write my very first SYOT.
If you're interested in submitting or just learning more about this SYOT check out the master doc in my profile here on ffn which has my submission form, submission guidelines AND the link to my blog which has all the worldbuilding information you'll need to understand what's going on throughout my Panem.
Keep an eye out for prologue two which will either be out most likely in two weeks. Until then best wishes.
-James